A Road not Travelled
by WildMutt
Summary: Come and listen to another tale of the Bionicle. Hear about a Toa gone rogue, and a world gone mad.


A long trail of footprints followed Iden in the sand dunes. His boots, covered with Zesk guts, stained the sand red. He labored on, not caring about the sand buffeting his cloak. His appearance was an odd one, a large trench coat covering once gleaming armor, now dulled grey with age and usage. His Kanoki Tryna had a hood thrown over it for two reasons. Firstly, the Kanoki was considered immoral, and secondly, his eyes would occasionally flash to orange before returning to green.

"Are we there yet?", Daemon asked.

"If we were there, would I be walking in the middle of the desert!", Iden screamed at his other half. The smell of rotting meat permeated the desert air.

"When was the last time I had allies?", he reminisced. He had been exiled from his own village after finding a Toa stone, turning him into a "hero". He was forced to make a living as a mercenary, killing to live. Iden chuckled to himself, looking at the irony of the situation. He killed to live, and now he is walking through a blasted desert because of the other half. An other half with a perverted, unstoppable love for destruction.

Past

Toa Iden ducked, sharp claws grazing his Kanoki. The attacker was a mutated Chute Lurker, the largest he had seen in Voel Nui in centuries. As the rahi sliced at him, he jumped back, activated his thruster pack, leapt over the rahi's head, and landed on it's back. He stabbed at the rahi's fleshy neck, missed, and was thrown off. He crashed through the already broken and web covered walls and lay stunned as the Chute Lurker advanced, with claws dripping toxic fluid. Before it could strike, it fell over, with its legs swept out from under it. A Toa of Light stood over the struggling rahi, extended her hand and smiled.

"Still wrestling with Rahi, brother?"

"No Kalin", replied Iden as he peeled himself off the wall, "Just trying to practice new moves.", as he stabbed the rahi through the head, putting it out of its dazed state.

" Well, you could have left him alive", Kalin said, revolted by the death of a living being.

"It would have been me or it", Iden said, wiping blood off his blade.

Looking at the icor running off the sword, Iden stopped to think about if he had died. He would have been added to the list of Toa who died for this doomed island. Already many Toa in his team had died. There were once eleven of them, now there were two active Toa and two in the hospital. The Turaga, an old, insane sack of metal, would not be pleased by his foolishness. Both Iden and Kalin walked as slowly as possible to the Turaga's hut, neither wanting to endure his wrath.

Present

Iden grumbled as he trudged through the sand. He had seen a settlement in the distance and had corrected his course toward it, grumbling to his other half the entire way. Even though he had only been on Spherus Magna for a few months after the reformation, he preferred to stick to the sand, were there were less settlements, and less of the "sentient" beings. He knew the instant he set foot inside the settlement that Turaga Dume and the other Turaga ruled, he would be bound in chains and put on trial. However, he would be risking himself either way. It was either indefinite imprisonment, or death out in the wastes. Walking closer, he realized that the settlement was Old Arena Magna, the former hub of Bara Magna. As he reached the main gates, he noticed that there was a lack of guards and only a bored looking sentry that waved him in. As he walked through the outskirts of Arena, it seemed that almost everyone had gathered in the center, toward the coliseum, leaving only a few shop owners. The shops themselves were nothing more than small huts made similar to Po-Matoran homes. As he walked through, he saw a particular shop that, while inconspicuous on the outside, had a peculiar shopkeeper. It was the infamous Matoran from Metru Nui, Ahkmou.

"Well Ahkmou!", he said, his grin not reaching his eyes, "Looks like you got off the hook with the Toa!" as he walked forward, towering over Ahkmou.

"Well you look well", Ahkmou joked.

Iden however, looked like he went through nine Hells and back. The once silver armor was tarnished, now pitted with dents, and covered in grime.

"I need a patch job," Iden said, "what can you do for me?"

"Well," Ahkmou began to say, his voice uncertain,"I would need the armor, I can't fix it while you are wearing it..."

"Fine," Iden muttered, unlatching the armor, "Take this crap."

The armor landed on with a thud on the ground. Ahkmou picked up the pitted chest piece, sighing in frustration. Without any frame to support it, the armor looked even worse. The armor was now composed of Zesk shells with some of the original armor holding it together.

"Well," Ahkmou tentatively stated,"It would be easier to scrap this, and give you some of the glatorian-Toa hybrid stuff."

"I ain't using that shit," Iden snarled, "I don't trust it."

"Ok," Ahkmou said, hands raised in submission. "I might be able to fix this, but it will take more time."

"Just do it well," Iden ground out, "And not a word."

Without waiting for an answer, Iden dropped the Tryna on the counter, grabbed a random Kanoki off the shelf, and stalked off wondering how to make the most use of this sudden free time.

Once Iden had turned the corner, Ahkmou breathed a sigh of relief. Iden was always a difficult costumer to deal with, always being followed by trouble. However, he always paid good widgets for any patchwork. In any case, Ahkmou was not going sell out Iden, that was his only reliable source of income. The other Matoran and Agori were hesitant to purchase his wares.

"In any case, I should start working on the armour." Ahkmou though as he moved the parts to the back of the shop. Just as he reached for the Tryna, a dark green-blue gauntlet snatched up the mask.

"Well, what does the little stone-carver have here?", a voice tauntingly questioned,"I always thought the Kanoki Tryna was illegal 'round here?"

Ahkmou froze at the sound of the feminine voice. Given that he had managed to unlock his memories from before the time on Mata Nui, he had his memories of the Toa-Hunter War. While there were many Dark Hunters that survived the Reformation, there was one he prayed he would never see.

Putting on his best poker face, he looked up and asked, "What can I do for you Lariska?"


End file.
